


one night always turns to two

by winterwind



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: College levels of alcohol consumption, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwind/pseuds/winterwind
Summary: Bitty is not very into one night stands but is very much into physical affection. Holster is warm and tall and non-judgemental. So maybe it’s an accident that they wind up cuddling that first time, but Bitty's not against making a habit of it.
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz/Eric "Bitty" Bittle, Dex/Nursey if you squint
Comments: 11
Kudos: 182





	one night always turns to two

Bitty wakes up in Holster’s bed.

More specially, Bitty wakes up very hungover and very shirtless in Holster’s bed, laying on top of him with his arm curled around his waist.

What on earth happened last night?

He shifts a little, trying to break free of Holster’s grasp without waking him up, so Bitty can go back to his room and panic a little in peace, but Holster’s grip is firm.

“Holster,” Bitty says softly. He doesn’t respond, so Bitty jostles him slightly. Holster groans but doesn’t open his eyes. “Holster, um, we didn’t, like, you know…”

“What? Hook up?” Holster’s voice is rough and his eyes are still closed. He pats Bitty’s hip twice in what feels like a weirdly intimate version of the no-homo-hug-shoulder-pat. “No, you started crying at the kegster, because you wanted to cuddle and there was no one to cuddle you, so here we are.”

“Oh,” Bitty says, his cheeks burning. “That’s embarrassing.”

“It’s fine, we’ve all been there.” Holster rubs his eyes with his free hand and yawns. “Can we go back to sleep now? It’s way too early to be alive.”

Bitty knows that he should get up and make breakfast for the Haus or at the very least go into his own bed, but Holster is so warm and his arm around Bitty feels really nice, so he just nestles back into the crook of Holster’s shoulder and goes back to sleep.

∴

It becomes a thing.

Bitty is not very into hook ups but is very much into physical affection, plus Holster is warm and tall and non-judgemental. So maybe it’s an accident that they wind up cuddling that first time, but Bitty definitely knows what he’s doing when he widens his eyes and pouts his lip a little at Holster as they’re leaving a party.

Holster, to his credit, totally takes it in stride. He just rolls his eyes and grins as he loops his arm around Bitty’s shoulders, saying, “Come on, you.”

Sometimes Holster will pick up at a party and Bitty goes home alone to his bed that feels too big. But the morning after, Holster will always come into the Haus and drape his huge body over Bitty’s shoulders as he’s making breakfast and plant a kiss on Bitty’s cheek and say something like, “Sorry to leave you hanging last night.”

It’s a weird thing that’s going on between them. Well, it’s not weird and that’s what’s weird about it. It feels aggressively normal to slip into bed with Holster and have Holster pull him in close.

It’s like what Bitty imagines friends-with-benefits would be like, except if the benefits were just cuddling instead of having sex or whatever.

Bitty definitely doesn’t imagine what it would be like if they actually were friends-with-benefits. Nope. Not even once.

∴

One morning, he wakes up to Chowder calling his name. If it were literally anyone else, Bitty would ignore it and snuggle back into Holster’s arms to go back to sleep, but it’s Chowder, so instead he says, “Up here!”

Holster doesn’t even flinch, because he sleeps like the dead. It’s something Bitty is continually impressed by.

Bitty sits up a little and blink the sleep out of his eyes when he hears the door open. Holster immediately tightens his grip around Bitty’s waist as soon as he does, as if he doesn’t want Bitty to get up. The force of his arm around him is incredibly distracting and it takes tangible effort for him to focus on Chowder instead of what else those strong arms could do.

Lord, he needs to think about MooMaw or something or this entire situation is going to get very awkward very quickly.

Chowder looks simultaneously very uncomfortable and very hungover. Bitty can relate. His hair is sticking up in a weird way in the back, which means he probably fell asleep on that disgusting couch, and he’s hovering in the doorway, like he’s not sure he’s allowed in the room.

“What’s up, Chowder?” Bitty says blearily, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“Um,” Chowder says nervously. “I was wondering if you would make us your hangover breakfast? Nursey looks, um, _not good_ and I probably shouldn’t have done that second keg stand either. Or taken those jello shots. Or played that game of flip cup. We can totally wait though if you're ... busy?”

He says it like he’s not sure what to make of what he’s seeing, which is when it occurs to Bitty that it’s probably not a great idea to drawing your frog’s attention to the fact that you’re in bed cuddling with another teammate. Shit.

And as much as Bitty would love to stay in bed, he probably should be a good upperclassman and make breakfast for them. Maybe some breakfast would make him feel better too.

“No, it’s fine, I can make y’all breakfast,” Bitty says around a yawn. “Just give me a second, I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay, thank you so much, Bitty! Sorry for waking you up! And for interrupting, um, anything?”

Chowder all but bolts back down the stairs.

Bitty flops back down on Holster, who laughs softly, apparently awake now.

“You’re a better man than me,” Holster says, rubbing his thumb across Bitty’s shoulder. “I would’ve said no.”

“You try looking at Chowder telling him no to anything,” Bitty says grumpily into Holster’s neck.

“That’s just because he’s your frog. We all have a weak spot for our frogs.”

Something about feels significant, but Bitty’s not in the headspace to process what it could mean, so he just groans instead, which makes Holster laugh again.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Bitty whines.

“Go,” Holster says, moving his arm away from Bitty’s back. Bitty immediately misses the warmth of it and tries to snuggle in closer to Holster, who does not take the bait. Rude. “Go downstairs and feed the frogs or they’re going to throw up and die.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“I don’t want to push you out of this bed, Eric Bittle, but I will if you make me.”

Bitty flops himself on to his back with a dramatic sigh.

“Fine,” Bitty grumbles, sitting up very gingerly. “But don’t think I won’t remember this injustice.”

“Save me some eggs!” Holster says from his nice warm bed.

“No.”

Holster’s laughter follows him out the door and down the stairs. Bitty hates him and hates mornings and hates alcohol and will never drink again. (Yes, he knows that’s not true, but it’s before noon on a Sunday, let him have this.)

“Did you ever know that you’re my heeero?” Nursey sings rather pathetically from where he’s lying on the floor. Chowder was right, he’s looking a little green, and Bitty feels a little bad about being such a diva about getting up.

“Please shut the fuck up,” Dex says from the couch. His arm is flung over his face to cover his eyes.

“Play nice,” Bitty says mildly as he goes into the kitchen

“Is there anything I can help with?” Chowder asks. He’s not quite slumped at the table, but he’s not sitting up straight either.

“No, that’s okay. Thank you for asking though.”

Bitty whips up some French Toast on autopilot and he’s halfway through the first batch of scrambled eggs, thinking about how he’d love to put on some Beyonce for strength this morning, but he has no idea where is phone is, _shit_ , when Chowder interrupts him from his thoughts.

“Um. Bitty? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Bitty says, leaning a hip on the counter so he can look at Chowder and also make sure the eggs don’t burn. And also because he’d very much like to still be in bed because standing is more effort than it’s worth right now.

“Are you and Holster dating?”

“What?” Bitty says quickly. “No.”

“But you were in bed with him this morning. And also…” Chowder gestures broadly at Bitty and Bitty realizes in this moment that he’s still wearing Holster’s shirt that he’d stolen the night before. It’s enormous on him and makes him look like he’s not wearing pants.

“Oh. Um.” Bitty struggles momentarily to find an appropriate way to say _I sometimes get mopey about how aggressively single I am when I’m drunk, so Holster lets me cuddle him._ “No, we’re just, uh, cuddle buddies?”

Lord, that sounds so lame, but Chowder nods sagely like it makes perfect sense. Bitty loves him.

“You know me,” Holster says, boisterous as always, as he enters the kitchen with Ransom. “I’m always DTC.”

The entire room looks at him blankly. Holster sighs.

“Down to cuddle,” Holster says like it was obvious. Ransom rolls his eyes. “You all are uncultured swine. I’m disappointed in each and every one of you.”

“Not all of us are pop culture afficianadoes, honey,” Bitty says, scooping eggs onto a platter. “Can you start some coffee for us or do you want to make more obscure references first?”

“Who says I can’t do both?” Holster says, ruffling Bitty’s hair as he passes. “Have a little faith in me, cuddle buddy.”

Bitty quickly turns back to the stove to hide how bad he’s blushing.

∴

The thing is with all of this is that Bitty’s now very aware of Holster touching him.

He likes it. He likes it a lot.

He likes the way Holster’s thigh feels against his when they’re crammed in on the couch and how big his hand feels when he touches Bitty’s back as he passes by and how he’ll play with Bitty’s hair before they fall asleep sometimes.

But more than that, he’s just more aware of Holster in general. The way he throws his head back when he laughs or how loud he gets when he’s excited about something or how protective he is of Ransom when he’s coral reefing.

Bitty has started to look for him when he enters a room. He’s started looking forward to parties because he knows how they’ll end. He -

Oh.

Oh, no.

∴

One Thursday, Bitty’s on his bed, making a sorry attempt at his French homework. He knows he’ll have to go through it with Jack later, because he’s only about 40% sure that any of this is right. He’s just huffing out a sigh of frustration when suddenly there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in!” he says, honestly a little grateful for a break. Holster opens the door tentatively and takes a small step in.

He doesn’t look like himself, not really. There’s something kind of defeated about the way he’s holding himself and his expression, which is usually so animated, is weirdly neutral.

“Hey, Bits.”

“Hey,” Bitty answers, immediately putting down his notebook. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“It’s just been a day. You know?” Holster shrugs.

“Yeah, I know.” Bitty has had more than his fair share of days like that, where nothing is really wrong but everything is wrong.

“Ransom’s in class until 6 and I don’t want to be by myself,” Holster says, looking kind of embarrassed about it. “Do you mind if I’m just, like, here? We don’t need to talk or anything.”

“Yeah, of course, sit down.”

Something endlessly funny to Bitty is how Holster is as elegant on ice as he is spastic off of it. He flops down face first onto the bed, which makes Bitty giggle.

“Ugh,” Holster says, his voice muffled from having his face pressed into the covers.

“I know,” Bitty responds, reaching out to run his fingers comfortingly through his hair. They stay like that for a moment with Holster half on the bed, his legs bent awkwardly to prevent him from sliding off the bed. Then all at once, Holster hoists himself up, flings himself onto the bed, and plops his head in Bitty’s lap.

“Am I gonna be in your way if I’m here?” he says, looking up at Bitty with a grin.

“Kind of, yeah,” Bitty says, but he’s smiling back at him.

“Do you want me to not be in your way?”

“Nah, that’s okay.” He can find a way to work on his homework with a lap full of Holster. “French is hard.”

“ _Francais n'est pas difficile. Vous avez juste besoin de pratique._ ”

“Not you too,” Bitty groans. “I didn’t know you spoke French.”

“I don’t,” Holster says as he tries to get comfortable. He’s way too tall to lay normally on the bed, so he props his feet up on the wall, being careful to avoid the picture hung there. “But you don’t play in the Q without picking some things up.”

“Ugh, when am I finally going to pick it up?”

“You’ll get it. You just gotta keep at it.”

They sit like that for a while, Bitty working on his homework at an awkward angle and Holster fiddling on his phone. Even though it’s not particularly comfortable, it feels weirdly domestic.

Look, Bitty grew up in a place that did not celebrate the fact that he was different. He doesn’t have many friends from high school, not close ones, and certainly not ones who felt comfortable touching him all the time.

It’s entirely possible that Bitty is just really touch-starved and Holster is filling that void and he’s getting all his wires crossed and confused. But Holster’s hair is soft under Bitty’s fingers and so is the smile he gives Bitty as he brushes Holster’s hair off his forehead and part of Bitty thinks he’s not confused at all.

Ugh, he really needs to focus.

It feels like it takes hours, but finally, _finally_ , Bitty throws down his pen in triumph.

“ _J'ai fini!_ ” He definitely butchered that pronunciation, but he’s too excited to care at this point.

“ _Je suis fion_ , wait, no, _fier de toi._ ”

“You know what I’m thinking we should do to celebrate me finishing this stupid assignment?”

“Bake a pie?” Holster suggests, raising an eyebrow and smirking at Bitty.

“No,” Bitty says. “Well, maybe. But what I was actually going to suggest was that I let you introduce me to 30 Rock.”

Holster sits up so quickly that he nearly headbutts Bitty.

“Bro. Are you serious, dude?” Holster manages to catch himself just before he knocks himself off the bed in excitement. He looks back at Bitty with an expression that’s both so excited and so serious that Bitty can’t help but laugh. “Bro, you cannot joke about 30 Rock with me, bro.”

“I would never,” Bitty says, still laughing. “I know you too well.”

“Shit. Oh my god.” Holster looks vaguely hysterical as Bitty pulls up Netflix on his laptop and hands it over. “Do I start you with one of the best episodes or do I start you at the beginning? Fuck.”

“I trust you.” Bitty’s face is starting to hurt from smiling, but he can’t stop. Holster is absolutely ridiculous and Bitty feels impossibly light with how happy he is. “I know you’ll set me up for success.”

Holster looks down at the laptop and then up at Bitty, then back at the laptop, then back up at Bitty again. Bitty makes a valiant attempt at making it seem like he’s not laughing at Holster, who’s staring down at the computer with the most serious expression Bitty has ever seen.

“I’m going to start you at the beginning. Yeah. Yeah, that feels like the right choice.”

“Let’s do it.”

Holster suddenly puts the laptop down and turns around to fluff up Bitty’s pillows before gesturing at Bitty to come over.

Bitty does, settling down closer to Holster than he probably needs to, but Holster doesn’t seem to mind.

“This is the moment I’m about to change your life, Bitty,” Holster tells Bitty seriously, his finger hovering about the mousepad. Their faces are just a few inches apart. “Remember this moment.”

“I’m sure I’ll look back on this day fondly,” Bitty says, trying not to feel too disappointed when Holster turns away.

“You’re laughing now, but you’ll see,” Holster responds and clicks play. Bitty hates to admit it, but he actually winds up liking the show. The characters feel like people he could know and he decides immediately takes to Liz Lemon. He can see why Holster loves her so much.

When Liz gets to the restaurant to meet with Tracy, Bitty decides, _fuck it_ , they’ve slept in a bed together, who cares, and lays his head on Holster’s shoulder. Holster immediately presses his cheek to the top of Bitty’s head and Bitty’s stomach swoops. Holster puts a hand on Bitty’s leg and squeezes, leaving it there to brush his thumb over Bitty’s thigh.

He wants this. Lord help him, but he really wants this.

What’s terrifying though is that he’s not sure how Holster feels about any of this at all. He’s a tactile guy. Bitty once saw him kiss Shitty on the mouth for bringing him chicken fingers. This might mean something or this might mean nothing. There’s no real way to know.

“So?” Holster says as the credits for the first episode start to roll.

“Wanna watch another one?”

“Obviously,” Holster says with a laugh.

Bitty shifts to cuddle a little closer as the episode starts and Holster lets him.

∴

That weekend, when Bitty wakes up in Holster’s bed, Holster’s large hand is curled around his own, his face pressed into Bitty’s hair.

∴

Lord almighty, Bitty did not eat enough today and he is drunk. Like drunk drunk. Like let Shitty talk him into a keg stand and then played five games of beer pong because he was on a hot streak drunk.

He needs some water. And maybe some pizza? Pizza feels like the right decision.

He wanders into the frat’s kitchen and oh, hey! It’s Shitty and Holster! Is this where they’ve been? Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen anyone from the team in a while.

“Bitty!” Shitty yells as he scoops Bitty up bridal style. Bitty barely has time to fling his arms around Shitty’s neck before Shitty’s spinning them both in a circle. “Our resident beer pong _champion_! When you were on fire and knocked out six cups in one turn? Honestly, a work of art. I’ve never been prouder of you.”

“Not even when he scored that gamewinner as a frog?” Holster asks, clearly laughing at the two of them.

“Please put me down before you spin me again and I throw up on you,” Bitty says.

“That’s a close second!” Shitty tells Holster as he plops Bitty down. Bitty stumbles but manages to catch himself on a kitchen chair at the last second.

“How ya doing there, dude?” Holster asks him with an arched eyebrow.

Bitty looks up at him a little helplessly.

“I think I need water,” he says, already cringing a little because he knows what they’re going to say.

“Water is for the weak! You need another beer is what you need!” Shitty roars, startling two girls who’d just walked into the kitchen. They scamper out immediately, which draws Shitty’s attention to the other room. “Oh, shit, Lardo, hey!”

And then he’s gone.

Bitty and Holster look at each other in surprise for a second before Holster shakes his head and laughs.

“Don’t listen to him,” Holster says, starting to rummage through the cabinets. “I think you’ve earned some goddamn water. Plus, I don’t want you puking in my bed tonight. Ah-ha!”

He holds a cup up triumphantly.

“You’re not gonna go home with that girl you were talking to?” Bitty had seen them talking earlier in the night. She was pretty with her long brown hair and her bright green eyes. Bitty had tried (and failed) not be jealous and gotten himself roped into playing beer pong to distract himself.

That probably had not been his best decision, but he’d succeeded in being distracted, so that counts for something, right? Maybe?

“Who?” Holster says as he fills the glass with sink water. “Oh! Her. No, I’m not going home with her. I couldn’t leave my best dude hanging like that.”

Holster turns off the sink and comes over to Bitty to hand him the glass of water and to ruffle his hair affectionately. Bitty takes it and stares up at him for a moment and…

Well, yes, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows he’s drunk and should control himself, but he’s also so tired. Tired of wanting and waiting and hoping that whatever’s going on between the two of them is an actual thing. Holster is here, in front of him, blowing off a beautiful girl to cuddle with Bitty, and he feels like maybe he’s right when he thinks there’s something going on here.

So Bitty chugs some water. And he puts the glass down on the table. And he very carefully steps up onto the chair he’d used for balance.

“What are you doing?” Holster says, bemused. His hands immediately go to Bitty’s hips to stabilize him and Bitty can feel how warm they are, even through his shirt.

“This,” Bitty answers. Even with the added height of the chair, he’s still only a few inches taller than Holster, which makes it easy to close the distance between them.

Holster makes a soft sound of surprise as their lips meet, but he doesn’t pull away. Bitty wraps one arm around his shoulders, cupping Holster’s face with the other. Holster pulls away for a second and Bitty is suddenly very afraid he’s made a terrible mistake, but Holster just tilts his head slightly, slotting their lips together at a better angle and, wow, why did he wait so long to do this? He’s dumb. Holster’s dumb. They’re both real dumb.

For how heavy-handed and excitable Holster is, he kisses in a surprisingly gentle way and it’s easy to get swept up in it, in how _right_ it feels. And Holster’s pulling him in a little closer, one hand spread wide across Bitty’s back, the other gripping Bitty’s hip tight, and, yes, definitely, there is something real happening here.

After a long moment, Holster pulls away with a sigh. Bitty chases after his lips but is stopped by a firm hand on his hip.

“Bitty,” Holster breathes. It’s the softest Bitty’s ever heard his voice. He’s still very much in Bitty’s space, so it doesn’t feel like a rebuff, though it very well could be. “Bitty, I don’t want to do this when we’re drunk.”

“Okay,” Bitty says. His voice sounds very small and he suddenly feels like he could cry. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t -”

“Bitty, no, stop, don’t,” Holster says, his thumb lightly tracing along Bitty’s hip. “It’s just. You know. Right?”

“Sure.” Bitty does not know at all, but it seems like the right thing to say.

“Fuck,” Holster says breathlessly and dips his head, resting his forehead against Bitty’s chest. It’s at the right height for Bitty to rest his chin on it, so he does, carding his fingers through Holster’s hair.

Holster sighs again and looks up at Bitty, his cheeks pink. Bitty wonders if that’s because of him.

“I think we should go home,” Holster says, sounding almost defeated.

“I also think we should go home,” Bitty says, brushing the hair away from his forehead. The corner of Holster’s mouth quirks up in a small smile and then Holster’s hoisting him up off the chair and putting him back on the ground. It’s a lot smoother than when Shitty did it and Bitty is very grateful, but he still stumbles a little because you know. Alcohol.

Holster reaches out to steady him, but Bitty is already throwing his arms around Holster’s waist, burying his face in his chest, because impulse control? Bitty’s never heard of it.

“I also also think we should order Dominos,” Bitty says, his voice muffled by Holster’s shirt.

“What?” Holster yells, stepping away from him with a betrayed look. “You yelled at me last time I ordered Dominos!”

“I’d just made some shepherd's pie and all you wanted was Dominos!” Bitty retorts, pulling his phone out to text the group chat.

_< < Y’all want Dominoos?_

“Sometimes a bro just needs Dominos!”

“Well, you better order some Dominos, because this bro definitely needs Dominos!” Bitty responds.

Holster bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard that he literally bends over and slaps his knee like he’s a grandpa or something, which makes Bitty start to laugh and then they’re both just laughing at nothing like idiots.

“Please,” Holster says when they finally stop, wiping at his eyes. “Do me a favor and don’t ever refer to yourself as a bro ever again. That’s just, like, not right.”

“It felt wrong even as I was saying it,” Bitty admits, looking down at his vibrating phone.

 _> > Omfg yesssss plz  
_ _> > it’s not a want it’s a NEED_  
 _> > feed me seymour.jpg  
_ _> > NO PINEAPPLE THIS TIME FUCK OFF NURSEY_

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, bro,” Holster says, laughing again as loops his arm over Bitty’s shoulders and half-drags him out of the kitchen. Bitty thinks he maybe feels Holster press a kiss to his head, but then maybe he just stumbled into his chin.

“SMH!” Holster yells as they start toward the door. Half the party flinches and one girl even screams. Bitty has to tuck himself into Holster’s side to hide how hard he’s giggling and Holster slides his arm around Bitty’s back to curl his hand around his hip and Bitty is kind of worried he royally fucked this up but he also thinks maybe he made the right choice?

“Motha fuckin’ _Dominos_ , baby!” Bitty hears Shitty yell from somewhere in the crowd. “Let’s goooooo!”

∴

Bitty wakes up alone in his own bed.

This in and of itself is not strange. But it’s been a long time since he woke up hungover in his own bed and even longer since he woke up hungover and alone.

He flops on his back and ignores the way his stomach gurgles unpleasantly for a moment to figure out why he’s here alone.

Holster had been talking to that girl, so Bitty had played beer pong, but then he’d seen him in the kitchen and -

Oh my god.

Oh my _god_.

Bitty is an idiot, what the fuck was he thinking? They’re teammates. Hell, they’re _roommates_. You can’t go around kissing people that live in the same space as you. There’s no way that ends well.

“I hate you,” Bitty says out loud. “You are a dumbass of enormous proportions and I hate you.”

He could probably play it off like he doesn’t remember. He was pretty drunk after all. But then if Holster remembers, that would be super uncomfortable for him and Bitty doesn’t want that.

If Holster remembers. Does Holster remember? Yes, of course Holster remembers. He’s a freaking tank, ugh.

So he’ll have to fess up, but Holster’s not really awkward about anything, so it’ll probably be fine and not awkward.

Right?

Bitty groans and throws his arm over his face.

“I hate you,” he says one more time for good measure and then forces himself to get up and go downstairs.

The Haus is quiet this early. Dex and Nursey are curled up asleep on opposite ends of the couch, their legs tangled up in the middle. Chowder is nowhere to be found. Maybe he stayed at Farmer’s? Bitty doesn’t remember.

It’s kind of nice to be able to brew some coffee by himself. It’s a rare change in scenery and lord knows the boys will be up and rowdy again soon enough, so Bitty takes the moment to himself, sipping his coffee and enjoying the sound of silence.

That is, until he hears the sound of footsteps and turns to see who else but Holster.

Holster looks a little worse for wear. He has a bleary expression behind his glasses and his hair is sticking up in a million different ways. He’s wearing that baggy sleeveless sweatshirt that Bitty pretends to hate, because only the most bro-y bros wear things like that, but also Holster looks stupid hot in it, so…. pros and cons.

“Oh,” he says, looking as surprised to see Bitty as Bitty is to see him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Bitty says, willing himself to be less awkward than he feels. “I just made some coffee if you want some.”

“I do, thanks.”

Bitty sits himself at the kitchen table as Holster fixes his coffee. It’s only awkward if he lets it be.

“I have to say I’m surprised to see you up this early.”

“Yeah,” Holster says, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “I guess I didn’t sleep very well.”

Bitty doesn’t know what to make of that, so he just looks down at his coffee.

“Hey, uh,” Holster says. He’s leaning against the counter now, fiddling with the mug in his hands. Bitty’s never seen him look so uncomfortable. “So, like, last night…. Do you remember ...?”

“Kissing you?” Bitty sounds a lot braver than he feels.

Holster immediately goes pink.

“No, I don’t,” Bitty continues. Holster smiles that crooked smile he always has when he’s smiling when he doesn’t want to. It’s Bitty’s favorite.

“You little shit,” Holster says, but there’s no bite to it. There’s a slightly awkward silence after. Bitty tries to fill it by sipping his coffee and tries to swallow an uncomfortable laugh when Holster does the same. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Bitty answers, wondering if it’s obvious how much his heart is pounding.

“Why’d you stand on the chair?”

That wasn’t the questions Bitty was expecting, but Bitty sighs all the same.

“Well, just grabbing your neck and pulling you down seemed rude,” Bitty says as puts down his coffee and walks over to Holster, who’s now looking at him with wide eyes. “And…”

Bitty goes up on his tiptoes and gestures at how large the difference between their heights still is.

“Oh my god,” Holster says, barely suppressing laughter. “I was over here thinking it was some, like, power trip thing or something and it was literally just because you’re short. That’s adorable!”

“Ugh, Holster,” Bitty groans, turning away to grab his coffee and hide in his room for the rest of the day. Or maybe the rest of his life. He hasn’t decided yet. But then he’s stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Hey, wait, sorry, I’m a dick, I didn’t mean that like I was making fun of you,” Holster says. When Bitty turns back to him, he looks surprisingly serious. “Well, I mean, I guess I kind of was -”

“Holster!”

“But I do genuinely think it was really cute!” Holster continues emphatically. His grip on Bitty’s arm loosens slightly and his hand slides down Bitty’s arm until he’s very loosely holding on to Bitty’s hand.

Holster takes a deep breath before he continues.

“I, uh, I think you’re really cute.”

Bitty’s heart leaps up to his throat.

“You do?” Bitty says softly.

“I mean, yeah,” Holster says, running his free hand through his hair. “You don’t see me cuddling with anyone else every weekend.”

“Well, Ransom,” Bitty points out. Holster rolls his eyes.

“Come on, we both know that doesn’t count.”

Bitty twists his hand slightly to tangle their fingers together.

“I, uh, I think you’re really cute too,” Bitty says, unable to resist the urge to tease him a little bit.

“Shut up, I do not sound like that.”

“Ransom is right, you don’t have any game.”

“You listen here -” Holster says, grabs Bitty by the hips, and hoists him up onto the counter. Bitty is distinctly torn between being annoyed - he’s not a child, you can’t just throw him around like that - and being incredibly turned on by it. It's a distinctly confusing mix of emotions, made even worse by the fact that he thinks he likes it. “I have so much game.”

“Is this your game right here?” Bitty gestures broadly at himself on the counter.

“No, that was just because it’s a long way to lean down,” Holster teases, stepping in close so Bitty’s knees bracket his hips. “Trying not to hurt my back or anything stooping down so low.”

“Oh my god, you are such a jerk,” Bitty says, but when Holster leans in, Bitty meets him halfway.

This kiss is nothing like the last. Last night, it had been exploratory, soft and careful. This time, Holster kisses like he’s been waiting for it forever. Maybe he has. He cups one hand around Bitty’s jaw, the other around Bitty’s waist, pulling him in so he’s right up against Holster’s hips.

Bitty makes a soft sound when Holster’s tongue brushes against his lower lip and opens his mouth eagerly to deepen the kiss. He slides his arms around Holster’s shoulders, sitting up so their chests are pressed together. Bitty feels like he can’t get close enough.

He’s always thought that falling in love would be this big, heavy, serious thing. That it was confessions in the rain and making sacrifices for one another, but maybe it’s something simpler than that. Maybe it’s just sharing space and teasing and making out in the kitchen.

They finally pull away, breathing hard, when they hear a loud thump from upstairs that can only mean that Shitty’s woken up drunk again and fallen out of bed.

“We’re gonna get fined if they catch us here,” Bitty breathes, his hands still tangled in Holster’s hair.

“I have money,” Holster says and leans forward to catch his lips again.

“No, you don’t,” Bitty responds with another kiss.

“No, I don’t.”

“Get your disgusting foot out of my face!” they hear Dex say from the other room and they both duck to hide soft laughs, resting their foreheads together.

Bitty wants to stay in this moment forever, but the boys will be coming in soon and they really shouldn’t be caught like this, so Bitty pulls him in for one more lingering kiss before nudging him out of the way so he can hop off the counter.

“Stop fighting or I won’t make you breakfast,” Bitty says lightly, loud enough so the frogs can hear him.

“You would never do that to us,” Nursey yells.

“Oh?” Bitty says with a wink to Holster, who grins.

“Don’t fucking ruin this for us,” Dex snarls and there’s a loud thud that Bitty would rather not know the cause of.

“Honey, can you crack some eggs in a bowl for me while I get the bacon started?” he asks Holster, opening the fridge and offering the carton to him.

“Of course,” Holster answers and presses one last kiss to Bitty’s cheek. It’s silly that of all things, that’s what has Bitty blushing, but the heart likes what it likes, he supposes.

Nursey and Dex come crashing into the room just moments later, just barely missing the display, and Shitty and Ransom join them shortly after, all recounting wild tales from last night. (“You should have seen Bitty, dude, he was _unreal_!”)

It’s all Bitty can do to act like everything’s normal, like it’s just a regular day where he’s making breakfast for everyone, like he wasn’t just kissing the hell out of his teammate, like he doesn’t wish he was _still_ kissing said teammate. But he manages decently enough with only a few soft smiles and “accidental” brushes until the food is long gone.

“I’m fixing to have a nap before I try to tackle my homework.” Bitty say as he stretches widely, shooting a quick glance in Holster’s direction in hopes he’ll catch on.

“Oh, yeah, same,” Holster says and Bitty turns away to roll his eyes at how distinctly unsubtle that was.

“You did all the cooking, I’ll clean up, you go get your nap on, you absolute champion you,” says Shitty, slapping him on the back as he passes.

“Thanks, Shitty.”

There’s only a few moments between when Bitty gets up to his room and there’s a soft knock at his door.

“Come in,” Bitty says from where he’s already laying on his bed.

Holster opens the door.

“Hey.”

Bitty beams at him.

“Hi there.”

Holster closes the door behind him and all but jumps on top of Bitty.

“Holster, oh my god,” Bitty laughs and then Holster is kissing him. It’s just as good as before if not better. They’re safe here, away from the prying eyes of their teammates.

Without moving away from Bitty's lips, Holster shifts and positions himself between Bitty's legs to hold himself above him. Bitty digs his heel into Holster's ass to pull him closer and the weight on him against Bitty when he lowers himself down is nothing short of heavenly. Holster is so broad and strong and hot and Bitty cannot believe he actually gets to have this.

“Did you actually want to nap? Because I would love a nap,” Holster says when they finally pull away to catch a breath. He presses one last quick kiss to Bitty's lips then to his nose and cheek before arranging them so Holster’s pressed up against his back, basically wrapped all around him. Bitty likes it. It’s comforting somehow, like he’s safe now.

“I always want to nap with you, honey,” Bitty says. He slides his hand up Holster’s arm to grab his hand, thrilling in the way Holster threads their fingers together. “We should probably talk about this when we wake up though.”

“What’s to talk about?” Holster whispers into Bitty’s ear and laughs at how it makes him shiver. “I like you, I’d like to kiss you a bunch more if that’s cool.”

He kisses Bitty’s cheek as if to prove the point.

“We’re teammates and also roommates, Adam.”

“Technicalities.” He feels more than sees Holster’s shrug. “But, sure, we can talk about it.”

Bitty shifts in his arms so he’s facing Holster and puts a soft hand against his cheek.

“I like you too,” Bitty says simply.

“Yeah?” There’s something almost hopeful about Holster’s expression and Bitty melts.

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Holster says, breaking into a goofy grin. Bitty can’t help but lean in to kiss him.

When he pulls away, he very gently removes Holster’s glasses, folding in the legs and placing them on his bedside table. As he does, Holster looks at him with this soft, open expression that makes Bitty absolutely melt. 

Holster is loud and boisterous and frankly kind of ridiculous sometimes, but there's something vulnerable underneath it all that makes Bitty want to be the person to take care of Holster, to hold him when he’s upset, to protect him. It feels sort of silly, the idea of Bitty taking care of Holster given the differences in their sizes, but it doesn’t make Bitty want it any less.

Bitty kisses him one more time, softly, slowly, before laying down, resting his head on Holster’s broad chest and looping his arm around Holster’s waist to hold him tight. Holster presses a kiss to Bitty’s forehead before settling in himself and it warms Bitty from head to toe.

There’ll be plenty of time for seeing what this could be or if it can even work given the circumstances, but as he drifts off to sleep, he finds he feels safer, warmer, and more hopeful than he ever has been before.

**Author's Note:**

> Holster accidentally says, "I am asshole" in French when he tries to tell Bitty he's proud of him. What can he say? Boys in the Q have foul mouths.
> 
> I have two unfinished Zimbits fics in my drafts. I guess I can only finish rare-pair fics for this fandom?
> 
> Come love these sweet boys with me on tumblr at magnus-burntsides.


End file.
